


Accidental Valentine

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-29
Updated: 2000-04-29
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Cupid strikes in an unexpected way.





	Accidental Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

She came awake slowly, feeling cozy but a little bit confused

Title: Accidental Valentine

Author: Debbie Hann, March 11, 2000

Rating: G

Spoilers: None 

Teaser: Cupid strikes in an unexpected way....

The challenge: Write a Valentine's Day story that includes a candy heart, striped 

pajamas, a dump truck, children's blocks, snow, and a copy of Gone with the 

Wind.

Many thanks to Courser and Ali for their suggestions and help!!!

~*~*~*~*~

She came awake slowly, feeling cozy but confused. In fact, that confusion steadily eroded the pleasant gloaming of sleep as she became more aware of what was causing it. The sheets felt wrong, and the blanket itchy. She hated itchy blankets. The light was all wrong, too. Her bedroom didn't face east, yet the insides of her eyelids told her sunlight flooded the room.

That did it. That thought brought her fully awake.

She sat up and looked around, trying to clear her head; winter sunlight streamed in the window and bathed the cheerful room, dazzling her eyes. Finally remembering where she was, Meg Thatcher shook her head at herself and threw back the covers. 

'You must be getting old, Margaret,' she told herself as she walked into the bathroom to start the day. 'You're taking care of Jace while Karla and Doug are away for the weekend. How could you forget that? You're feeling twinges from playing with him in the snow yesterday!'

Smiling through soap bubbles as she washed her face, she remembered his happy giggles as they made a Sam Browne out of sticks for the snowman they had built yesterday. They had tried to improvise a Stetson, but, they'd had to admit, there's only so much one can do with sticks and dead leaves. 

Jace was such a joy to be around with his bouncing energy and cheerfulness. It was hard, sometimes, remembering he was only three years old because he was so quick. Just keeping up with him mentally was a race. Yesterday they had played the alphabet game thinking of things that started with each letter and she had felt incredibly proud when "M" was his word and he'd come up with "M is for Mountie." She loved being part of this little boy's life.

She ignored the wistful undercurrents underlying her enjoyment of babysitting. After all, she knew why she was feeling so melancholy; she was Aunt Meg, not Mommy Meg. The fact that today was Valentine's Day and her date was a three year old, wonderful as he was, only made it worse.

Turning the faucet off emphatically, she put a stop to her thoughts. "This isn't a day to feel sorry for yourself," she told her reflection, "it's a day to have fun with Jace."

Smiling determinedly into the mirror and fluffing her hair, she thought about today's plans; they were going to have fun. Baking and decorating cookies topped the itinerary. They had cupid cookie cutters, and hearts, and ones for dinosaurs too; Jason had decided that since they were going to have red and pink frosting, dinosaurs could be for Valentine's Day, too. After that, they were going to make heart-shaped sandwiches for a special Valentine's tea where they would be the only attendees. She hoped they bought enough red sprinkles yesterday when they had gone shopping for supplies. 

Going back into the guestroom and making the bed, she grabbed her book off the nightstand the other day she'd had a sudden desire to read _Gone with the Wind_ again and headed down the hallway to check on Jason.

He was still asleep, curled up on his side, one hand tucked against his Tomas the Tank Engine sheets. His round little cheeks glowed, making him look even more angelic than when his bright eyes were open. His free arm was still tightly curled around his favorite green dump truck. 

As she stood there, Meg decided to take advantage of this time to herself to get breakfast started; oatmeal and raisins sounded good on such a snowy day.

Walking down the hallway past baby pictures of Jace, she fanned _Gone with the Wind_ with her thumb, unconsciously beating a cadence as she walked. As she got to the living room and skirted the couch, she looked down at the cover of a woman in front of an antebellum mansion. 'Thank God hoop skirts have gone they way of the dodo,' she thought. 

And suddenly found herself airborne.

Her flight ended all too soon with contact against the floor.

Despite the thick carpet, the thud of her side hitting it was still enough for _Gone with the Wind_ to go skittering across the floor and for her to end up lying there gasping for the air that had suddenly deserted her. 

Shaking her head in frustration after regaining her breath, she turned her head to look back down her body and identify what had bitten her foot and made her fall. Rolling up on one arm and supporting her weight on her elbow, she could see the culprit. One of Jason's alphabet blocks had been lying in wait, obviously lurking at the end of the couch for some hapless foot to come by. And hers was the lucky foot. 

Groaning slightly and shooting a look that really should've made the block sizzle, she sat up slowly and bent to look at the sole of her foot. The way her foot hurt, she wasn't entirely sure the pointy corner of the block hadn't broken the skin. 

Bringing her foot up to kind of a modified tailor position made it twinge. A lot. This wasn't good. Her quest for broken skin forgotten, Meg lightly cradled her foot in both hands and gently tried rotating her ankle.

The hiss of pain that slipped out seemed abnormally loud in the still room.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to get to her feet and gingerly put weight on her foot. Only to sit right back down.

Her emotions went from disquiet to full-bloomed dismay. She was babysitting an active three year old; how in the world was she going to be able to keep up with the little tornado if she couldn't walk?

'Maybe it'll go away in a minute,' she told herself, taking a deep breath. She was tough; she could walk it off. She just needed a minute. Or five.

Not wanting to wait it out on the floor, she scooted backwards on her rear end. Happily, the closest chair was in the same direction as her book, so once she pushed herself up on the chair and used one of the throw pillows to prop up her foot, she had something to do while she waited out the ache in her ankle.

Ten minutes later, when not even the allure of Rhett Butler could keep her occupied, she gave up trying to pretend the pain was easing. In fact, compared with her other foot, her hurt ankle was visibly puffy, especially along the front and right side.

'What now? What now?' The question throbbed through her brain in beat with the throb in her ankle. Jason's parents were a couple hours away, and while there were a few other friends she could call, she hated to call so early on a Sunday morning, and knew that at least Danielle had some very definite Valentine's Day plans.

That left just one person. 

Leaning her head against the back of the chair, she closed her eyes and pictured him. She was not only going to have to call him, she was going to have to admit she needed help. 

Not letting herself analyze those feelings, or how easy it was to summon a vivid mental image of him, any more deeply, she grabbed the phone on the other side of the lamp and dialed the direct line to his office in the Consulate. That was a definite advantage to the fact that he lived in his office; she didn't have to worry about not knowing his home number. And at least she didn't have to worry about waking him up at 8 a.m., Sunday morning or not.

"Good morning, Canadian--"

"Fraser, I know who you are, thank you; it's Inspector Thatcher, and I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a jam." She was startled to realize how much of her tension eased at the sound of his voice.

On the other end of the line, Fraser found himself coming instantly alert at the undercurrent of . . . pain and worry he could hear in her voice. It was slight, but it was there. "Sir? Are you all right?" He winced a bit at how much concern had roughened his voice.

"Yes, thank you, nothing is seriously wrong, but I twisted my ankle, and I'm afraid I need to ask a favor."

"Yes, Sir, anything I can do to help."

Feeling incredibly comforted by his quick willingness to help, Meg spoke again. "I'm taking care of the son of some friends of mine this weekend, and, as I said, I've wrenched my ankle. I don't think anything is broken, but it's fairly swollen so I think I better get it looked at. But I can't drive with a hurt right foot, especially in the snow, to say nothing of the fact that hospitals and three year olds are hardly the best mix."

Cutting her off before she could say anything more, Fraser was quick to suggest a solution. "I can see your point, Inspector. If you would give me the address where you are, I'll be right over with the Consulate car. I'll take you to the doctor's and take care of the little boy while you get treatment."

This time she let her relief show in her voice. "Thank you, Constable, I really appreciate this. Jason's a very good little boy; he won't be any trouble." After pausing for a beat, her voice became more tentative. "I'm not interfering with any Valentine's Day plans you have, am I?" She ignored the little voice in her head telling her she could've just asked about any plans he had and left Valentine's out of it. 'But you wanted to know,' the little voice said. 'Shut up!' she mentally replied.

"No, Sir, I had no special plans for today." 

"Oh, good." Realizing how that sounded, she went on quickly, "I mean I'm glad you don't have any plans." That had just made it worse. Dropping her head to her hand in embarrassment, she rushed on, "I mean, plans that I'm disrupting." 'Good, God, Margaret! And you're supposed to be a diplomat!" The little voice was now laughing at her.

"I understand, Inspector." She couldn't tell from his voice whether he was annoyed or amused, or neither. "Now, if you give me the address, I'll be right over."

Part 2

By the time he got there fifteen minutes later, the blush on her face had mostly subsided. 

Luckily, the building had a doorman, so she hadn't had to get up and answer the door. As the man let Fraser into the apartment, it struck Meg as funny that for once the figure in the red uniform wasn't Fraser. 

She tried to tell herself that the gasp she'd made as Fraser walked in was from turning towards the door and shifting her ankle, not the sight of him in snug jeans, a rather spectacular blue Henley that matched his eyes, and a flannel jacket that set off his shoulders, but she hadn't actually fooled herself. His easy grace as he walked towards her, wolf at his side, didn't exactly help her focus either.

"Good Morning, Sir," he said and set his hat on the coffee table. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Constable." Was that a glint she saw in his eye? She dismissed the thought immediately, however, when he it became clear he was looking down at her in concern. 

"If I may?" He questioned, waving his hand at her foot.

Gaining permission from her nod, Fraser knelt beside her propped leg and examined her foot. He tried to ignore the fact that she was in pajamas. Surely that was completely irrelevant. She was, after all, completely covered. He just hadn't ever realized flannel could be so... flexible. "The swelling is bad, but not catastrophic; it doesn't look like you've torn anything, but I agree it is prudent to get this examined." He looked up at her, not letting his eyes follow the stripes on the pj's. "I think the best course of action would be to take you directly to the hospital rather than icing your ankle or having you take an anti-inflammatory." 

Feeling a little bereft without his hands on her skin, she answered quickly, "Right, so let's get me to the hospital." She pushed herself to the edge of the chair and slowly lowered her foot to the floor. "I think it would be better if we wake Jason up together I don't want to upset him by having a stranger in his room." She stood up gingerly as she spoke, using Fraser as a prop and balancing on one foot. 

Fraser was tempted to tell her it would be far more expedient for him to carry her, not to mention far easier on her ankle, but he recognized that look on her face. It was her determined look, and he'd seen it often enough to know there would be no stopping her. Actually, it wasn't all the different from the look she'd worn while announcing there wouldn't be any further "contact" between them. 

They made it around the couch with him walking slowly by her side before the way her injured foot jerked with each small hop she took forced her to stop. "This isn't working," she rasped through gritted teeth. 

Looking down at her, he cocked an eyebrow in inquiry, and once again she nodded her permission. Scooping her up in his arms, he kept his eyes straight ahead as she directed him down the short hallway. If he was more aware of his hands than he ever remembered being before, he was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that they were cradling her against his chest. Or the fact that he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his hands. 

'Oh, certainly; how could it be that?' His own inner voice mocked. The voice went on needling him. 'What is it Ray always says? 'Denial isn't just a river in Egypt?'' 

'Who knew an interior monologue could be so sardonic,' Fraser thought as he walked down the hallway.

Relieved to finally reach the little boy's room and not give his mind any more fodder to taunt him, Fraser set Meg down on the bed and took a few steps back to give her room to wake Jason up. He liked the cheerful room full of toys and books and wondered what Jason was going to think of him. A ripple of laughter echoed through his mind as he saw what Jason was sleeping with; he couldn't wait to meet this little boy. 

Shifting his thoughts and motioning for Dief to stay in the doorway, Fraser watched the woman in front of him display a side of herself he had never seen before, but that immediately captured his heart and his imagination. 

Smoothing Jason's blond hair back with her hand, she gently woke him up with a hug and a kiss. "Good morning, kiddo." Round brown eyes blinked open slowly, and turning over, the little boy pushed his toy dump truck out of the way and hugged her back.

A moment later after he was more fully awake, Jason kicked covers out of his way and wiggled out of her hug. Speaking quickly, his words tripped over themselves. "When can we bake cookies, Aunt Meg? Is it time yet?" 

"I've got some bad news, Jace; we're going to have to wait a little longer. I need to go to the doctor because I tripped and fell and hurt my ankle."

"Uh, oh! Daddy did that when we went skiing. Does it hurt really bad?" The voice might have been childish, but his concern was clear as he frowned into Meg's face.

"Not too bad, but bad enough that I need to go to the doctor."

"But then we can bake cookies?" He tried hard not to pout and mostly succeeded. 

"Then we can bake cookies."

"Yeah!" Turning his head for the first time, Jason caught site of Fraser. He had jumped out of bed, landing on jammie covered feet, but now he backed up against his honorary aunt's thigh, "Whozat?"

"Jason, I'd like you to meet my friend, Constable Fraser. Remember I told you about the people who work for me? Well, Fraser works for me at the Consulate, and since I can't drive with a hurt foot, he's going to drive us to the doctor and watch you while the doctor sees me."

Fraser took a couple steps forward, smiling into the little boy's eyes, "Good morning, Jason. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Not letting go of Meg's leg, Jason looked up at Fraser, "Are you a Mountie too?"

"Yes, I am."

"Where's your red uniform? Aunt Meg showed me a picture of hers." Jason's tone clearly implied skepticism about Fraser actually being a Mountie.

"I left it at home today; I don't usually wear it on the weekends. I did bring my hat, though; it's in the living room." 

Slightly mollified, Jason started to ask another question when he caught sight of Dief sitting in the doorway. "That's a big doggy." The childish voice was full of awe.

"Yes, he is," Fraser replied, taking a few more steps forward and making another small motion with his hand telling Dief to stay put for the moment. "Although he's actually a wolf. His name is Dief."

"A wolf!" The little boy's face was the perfect image of scared curiosity. "Does he bite?" he asked, his eyes trained on Dief's mouth.

"Only bad guys, Jason." Fraser kept his voice quiet as he crouched down in front of the boy, watching Jason carefully and trying to decide whether or not to have Dief come closer.

"Can I pet 'im?" Jason asked shyly, taking a couple small steps forward towards Fraser and peeking around the Mountie's larger body to look at Dief.

Dief yipped and trotted towards the little boy and the bigger man, his tail waving happily. Meg watched as he came to a stop and sat. He barked once more and then waited expectantly.

Fraser turned back to Jason from looking at Dief. "He'd like that, Jason, but he says to be careful of his left shoulder; it's a little sore."

Jason blinked, and Fraser could see the question in his eyes, "Just be gentle petting him on the side closest to me, alright?"

"Kay," the little boy replied.

Dief waited patiently as Jason reached out his hand and stroked the wolf on the right side and then ran his fingers into Dief's fur. "S'thick, Aunt Meg. Wow. How come he hurt his shoulder?"

"He insisted on leaping a fence yesterday." The look Fraser threw the wolf made it clear he hadn't forgotten the fact that Dief had been trying to get to his favorite hot dog stand before it closed, even if he wasn't going to mention it now.

With the simple acceptance of children, he decided that Fraser must be alright if Aunt Meg liked him and he had a wolf, so he went back to getting to know Dief, who was now flopped on his side, eagerly panting his hopes for more petting. 

Fraser and Thatcher's eyes met over the giggling boy and the ecstatic wolf, and they both smiled. 

Feeling like she was breaking a physical connection, Meg forced herself to turn to Jason. "Looks like you've made a new friend, Jace. Why don't you and Dief think about what you want to wear today, and Fraser can take me to my room so I can get dressed. Then he'll come back here and help you, alright?"

"Sure, Aunt Meg," the little boy replied, far more interested in Dief's shaggy tail and rough tongue than any undercurrents between the adults.

Knowing Dief would watch the little boy for the moments he would be out of the room, Fraser stood and picked Meg back up and walked her down the hallway to her room. 

As he sat her down on the bed and brought her suitcase over, he made a suggestion, "If I may, Sir, might I suggest that you leave your pants on?" He cleared his throat. "That way you won't jar your foot changing." Ruthlessly tamping down the image of her changing clothes, he shut the door behind him and went back to join Jason and Dief.

A few minutes later, a strange assortment of figures emerged from the apartment and walked past a wide-eyed neighbor: a wolf trotted beside a little boy bundled into a coat and wearing a backpack that was almost half as long as he was, while a man wearing a well-worn flannel coat and a Stetson carried a woman in a warm trench coat, whose legs, curiously, were clad in green and blue stripped pajama bottoms.

Part 3

The waiting room was quiet, even for early on a Sunday morning, so Jason and Fraser had more than enough room to explore the contents of the Jason's backpack.

After reading _The Monster At The End Of the Book_ Jason really liked Grover, but was a little surprised Fraser didn't know who he was they delved back into the bag for another activity.

"Ooh, look, Cons'ble Ben, Mommy put 'struction paper in for me. There's red and pink and white." Unzipping one of the front pockets, he pulled out a Tupperware container, "An' look, I have a glue stick and scissors and markers!" He turned to Fraser eagerly, "we c'n make Valentine cards like we did in preschool."

"That sounds like a fine idea, Jason." He helped his small charge set everything out on the low table they were using. Fraser's legs extended out beyond the far edge of the table, while Jace was kneeling to be able to reach the tabletop, but Fraser found the incongruity more delightful than odd. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had more fun. Jason was bright, energetic, and well behaved. Dief clearly agreed if the way the wolf had curled up right against the little boy's other side was any indication.

Fraser sat and watched Jason fold a piece of red paper and draw a few slightly lopsided hearts across the top. The concentration on the little boy's face made him think about sitting at the kitchen table coloring while his mum made dinner. The bittersweet memories eased, however, as he watched Jason draw a figure with four legs, large ears and a big fluffy tail. He was just about to ask Jason whom this card was for when the little boy asked him a question. 

"Cons'ble Ben, how do ya spell Dief?" he whispered, leaning close to Fraser.

As he wrote Dief's name out on another piece of paper so Jason could copy it, Fraser left the melancholy thoughts behind and simply enjoyed being with his young companion, unknowingly echoing Meg's thoughts earlier in the day. 

Across the room, the duty nurse looked at the tall man and the little boy for the fourth or fifth time in two minutes, completely unable to stop a smile from spreading across her face. She was impressed with how well the father related to his little boy, and the image of the dark head bent over the little blond one was absolutely darling. Seeing that they were making Valentine's cards, the nurse had an idea.

Grabbing a small box from behind the counter, she walked over to the two of them. Crouching down next to Jason, she admired the "D" he was painstakingly writing across the top of a red piece of paper. "What are you and your daddy making?"

Jason looked up at her, clearly a little put of from having his concentration disrupted. "He's not my daddy! He's my Cons'ble," he said, and went back to copying the "I" Fraser had written out for him.

"Good morning, Ma'am; Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP. I'm babysitting young Jason, here." His tone had started out friendly, but as he saw speculation spark in her eyes as she learned that he wasn't Jason's father, he fought the urge to move Jason on his lap and use him as a buffer.

"Nice to meet you, Constable," she replied with a toothy smile. 'Hmm, interesting; no ring,' she speculated, pleased. "Jason? I have something here for your cards." She set the small box on the table and opened it, shaking out its contents. Little multicolored hearts spilled out, dancing and clicking across the table surface. "You can glue these on your cards to decorate them."

"Cool, thank you." Jason reached out and grabbed a couple, starting to try out places to put them on the card he was working on. "Hey, are these candy?" He asked, picking one up and rotated it, and looking at the different sides.

"Yes, they are," the nurse replied.

"Can I have one?" Jason looked up at the Mountie.

"Not now, Jason; how about we save them for the cards, and then you can take any leftovers home and have them later."

"'Kay," he shrugged and went back to making a Valentine for Dief. "When's Aunt Meg gonna come?"

"As soon as she can, Jason; I'm sure the doctors are working as quickly as they can."

"I'll go check for you," the nurse put in, the glints of interest in her eyes decreasing at learning Fraser was there with a woman. 

"Thank you kindly, Ma'am." Unchivalrous as it was, Fraser was just as glad to be left alone with Jason. Although he did wonder for a moment what it would be like if Jason was his son, if maybe he was waiting for his wife. Still, there was no purpose to wondering what might've been. Far better to enjoy what was here now. 

A few minutes later, Jason finished Dief's card and gave it to the wolf. Dief's excited lick surprised the little boy, but Fraser could tell he was pleased. So was Dief. The card was now under Dief's right paw, which the wolf was resting his jaw on.

"I think I'm gonna make one for my mommy, now."

"Then, perhaps, you can make one for your father."

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Noticing for the first time that Fraser was watching him, not making a card of his own, he frowned up at the Mountie. "Aren't ya' gonna make one? I bet your mommy would like one."

Smiling into the boy's face, Fraser answered the boy. "My mum died when I was a little boy."

"Oh." Jason's face scrunched in concentration. "How about making one for your daddy?"

He didn't want to upset his little friend, but at the same time, he wouldn't lie to the boy. "Unfortunately, he died a few years ago as well."

"I'm sorry, Cons'ble Ben," he said, his voice and eyes sad.

"That's alright, Jason." Not wanting to distress Jason any more, he complemented his card. "I really like the happy faces you put in that heart."

Momentarily diverted, Jason went back to trying to decide what color hearts to make next on his mom's card. A few minutes later, however, his whole face lit up. "I know! You can make a card for Aunt Meg! Just like I'm gonna when I finish Mommy and Daddy's." 

Touched by the little boy's efforts to make him feel better, Fraser let Jason help him chose a piece of paper and a marker and found himself making a Valentine's card, something he hadn't done in over twenty years.

The two worked companionably making cards and trading markers. Fraser spelled a few things for Jason, and Jason helped Fraser decide what colors to use.

Part 4

Meg Thatcher clumped down the hallway on crutches. Rounding the corner, she had a clear view of the little boy and the dark haired man working at the coffee table and stopped, leaning against her crutches, watching.

She never knew what to expect from Fraser. He could be so formal and distant, and yet here he was, sitting on the floor holding a magic marker and helping a small boy uncap a glue stick. 'He's as comfortable sitting on the floor playing with construction paper as he is chasing a criminal.' How could someone be so rigid and yet so flexible? Perhaps someone could ask the same question thing about her. Although, staring across the expanse of carpet and feeling warmth spread in her chest, she wondered if there wasn't hope of them both being more flexible. Maybe someday, maybe even someday soon, they would figure out a way to make this work.

He and Jason laughed at something, and the sound of both of their laughs blending together pulled at her and urged her to start moving again. She wanted to get closer to both of them.

Intent on getting more comfortable on her crutches, and on her goal, she didn't see the nurse at the duty station follow her gaze towards the man and back. Nor did she see the regret color the nurse's eyes, but the nurse could see that any interest she had in the man was hopeless.

For their part, Fraser and Jason were so intent on their cards, they didn't see Meg coming until she was almost to the table, but as soon as Jason caught sight of his honorary aunt, he leapt up and grinned. 

"Aunt Meg, it looks like you've got another pair of legs."

"Well, that's exactly what crutches are, Jace an extra pair of legs so my foot can heal."

Fraser rose as well, and nodding to the ace bandage wrapped around her foot, commented, "I see nothing was broken, Inspector."

"Luckily, no; just a moderate sprain." She smiled down at the boy who was now standing at her side. "So what have you two been up to?" She asked, shifting her weight forward on her crutches so she could reach out with her hand and cup his chin.

"We read a book and then we made cards, Aunt Meg. And this lady gave me some candies to put on 'em." He ran the couple feet back to the table, motioning her to follow. Waiting impatiently for her to catch up, he showed her the cards he had for his mom and dad, speaking so quickly his words stacked up on top of each other. "An' I made one for Dief an' one for Cons'ble Ben, an'" he finished triumphantly, "I made one for you!" 

Sitting down on a chair at the end of the coffee table so she could properly admire his handiwork -- and give her arms and foot a rest -- she listened intently as he showed her the different drawing on the card. "An' look. This is you see, you're wearing a Sam Browne just like our snowman yesterday!"

Enveloping him in a huge hug, Meg said, "This is the most beautiful card I've ever gotten, Jace. I love it. I like the candy hearts you used; I haven't seen those in years." 

Beaming in pride, Jace turned to his new friend. "Now show 'er yours, Cons'ble Ben."

"Oh, no, Jason; that really isn't necessary." He tried to smile, but Meg could still see the Mountie in the headlights look he tried to mask. 

"It's really pretty, Aunt Meg, and he drawed it all by himself. We decided he should make you one cuz he doesn't have a mommy and daddy to make a Val'tines card for any more."

The blush he had been suppressing broke free and blazed across his face, but Fraser knew he was trapped. He might've been around Jason for just over two hours, but he could already tell the three year old was tenacious. And besides, how in the world could he explain to the little boy that while he had enjoyed making the card, he hadn't ever really intended to give it to her? 

Making it, he had felt a little like he was hording a dream. Which is why he had decorated the card the way he had. It was an image he would very much like to experience, but given their situation, there wasn't much chance of that, no matter how much his transitory thoughts of being a family had affected him. Still, showing it to her would be a little like bearing a piece of his soul. Looking down at Jason, however, he knew he couldn't resist. 'And maybe..." but he stopped that thought before it finished. Better not to think it. That way he could temper the disappointment of it not happening.

Squaring his shoulders, he reached down and presented Margaret Thatcher with the Valentine's Day card he made for her.

Reaching out blindly because the look in his eyes transfixed her, she felt the paper hit her hand while she was still trying to sort out the emotions in his eyes. He looked . . . vulnerable and . . . wistful.

Still pondering that, she looked down at the card in his hand. Somehow, even though he was using magic markers, he had managed to create a sunset set against mountains. In the foreground, a man and a woman stood, just dark shapes against a darkening sky, framed by pine trees that created a canopy over their heads. Despite the fact that she knew it was construction paper and marker, Fraser had managed to create a scene so vivid it was like looking out a window and seeing the couple in front of her. Surely it wasn't a coincidence that the figures seemed strangely familiar.

Across the bottom, it said simply: Happy Valentine's Day, Most Sincerely, Benton Fraser.

Very glad she had sat down, she fought to keep herself from clasping the card against her chest. Feeling like her whole world had been rocked, she was shocked at how the simple message and card had affected her. Standing there, mesmerized by his message and his eyes, her mind raced as she tried to decide how to respond when Jason's voice cut across her thoughts.

"Isn't it pretty? I like the pine trees, and I got to help pick the colors in the sunset. Do you like it?"

"Yes, yes I do. In fact," she teased, holding Fraser's gaze for a moment longer and then looking down at Jason, "it's the second most beautiful card I've ever gotten."

Too delighted by the complement to see the look that passed between the two adults as he bounced back over to Dief, he reached down and petted the wolf. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Aunt Meg?" He had to say her name again. "Aunt Meg?"

Tearing herself away again from the look in Fraser's eyes, Meg looked at Jason. "Yes, Jace?"

"Can Cons'ble Ben an' Dief come and decorate cookies with us and then have tea?"

Flitting a look over at Fraser, she looked back at Jason, "Well, Jace, I don't know; they might have other plans."

Surprised by the power and pull of the plea in Jason's eyes and voice, Fraser started to politely refuse; after all, this was a special time for the little boy and the Inspector. He could talk to her about the look he had just seen in her eyes another time. Perhaps.

"Please?" He turned his wide brown eyes back to Fraser. "I'll let you use some of the red hots we bought." 

Glancing at Meg and seeing her small nod of assent, Fraser smiled down into the small face shining up at him. "Now that is an offer I can't refuse, Jason. Thank you very much for the invitation."

"Yeah! This is gonna be great!" Turning back to his aunt, he demanded, "Can we go now? Is it time yet?"

"Yes, the doctor said I could go home."

"Yippee! Dief, we getta bake cookies!" The wolf's answering yip might've been quiet the staff hadn't been all that thrilled with him being here but it still managed to convey enthusiasm for the idea.

"Jason, first we need to clean up our mess; then we can go home." Fraser's voice broke through Jason's zeal and he skidded around the table to start putting the pens back in their containers and the paper back in its folder.

Grateful for the simple task of cleaning up paper scraps, Fraser used the time to try and calm his racing thoughts. She had not only liked the card, her entire demeanor had changed and the look in her eyes had made his heart speed up. Maybe she had understood what he was trying to say. And now he was being allowed to spend more time with her. On Valentine's Day no less. Elated and yet disquieted, Fraser fit the last marker into the box. This promised to be a very interesting day.

"I can't find the cap for the glue stick."

"Well, perhaps it fell on the floor, Jason. Let's look," Fraser suited his words with action and got down on his hands and knees to look around for the missing cap. Jason did the same, and even Dief got in on the act.

A moment later, Dief yipped again and pushed the cap over to Jason with his nose. The three year old grabbed it and hugged the wolf.

"Good job, Dief!" Jason thanked him.

Fighting the urge to make a joke about this being the Case of the Missing Glue Stick Cap, Meg contained her laughter while Fraser held the glue stick and Jason carefully slid the cap over the cylinder with great concentration. While they both continued putting everything back in the backpack, Meg took advantage of their distraction.

A stray candy heart had escaped and sat on the corner of the table closest to her. Just sitting there, waiting, calling to her. Moving quickly, she palmed the white heart with the pink lettering, barely giving herself time to think about what she was doing, and slipped it in her pocket.

"Be Mine" the heart read.

Maybe later she'd have a chance to give it to Fraser. 

 

End

Copyright Deborah Hann, February 2000


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